


Life Doesn't Always Imitate Art, or Stop Watching Movies and Live

by blcwriter



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bad Sex, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 15:11:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4226622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blcwriter/pseuds/blcwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>No sequels or follow-up stories, sorry-- this is from back circa 2009-ish, and is a standalone.</p></blockquote>





	Life Doesn't Always Imitate Art, or Stop Watching Movies and Live

For [](http://thalassa-ipx.livejournal.com/profile)[**thalassa_ipx**](http://thalassa-ipx.livejournal.com/) 's [prompt](http://community.livejournal.com/stxi_sinfest/2909.html?thread=425053#t425053) at this week's [](http://stxi-sinfest.livejournal.com/profile)[**stxi_sinfest**](http://stxi-sinfest.livejournal.com/) . This fill is not my usual thing. Warning for elements of drunkeness and possible non-con, possible ooc-ness, schmoop at the end. 

\--

Frankly, he'd been kind of scared by what he saw in the pornos-- it was always so rough, so wham-bam-shove-it-right-in, and while Jim was certainly a fan of hot-and-heavy sex, the fact was none of the gay porn he'd ever seen ever deviated from the shove right through method of sex and Jim, well, Jim liked to think he had a little finesse. Certainly, all the women he'd ever been with had always come back looking for more. So, yeah-- it looked like it hurt, and it made his dick twitch and his toes curl and not in a good way to watch the bits of gay porn he ... researched, yeah, that was it, when he started to realize that Bones' shoulders were really, really broad and filled out his cadet reds so very nicely, that his accent was hot and his growly voice so very warm, even when he was cussing out Jim for being a damned fool for whatever it was that Jim had annoyed him about and that Jim got all kind of wibbly inside when Bones grumbled and yelled at him for not wearing a jacket outside when it was raining or came to Jim's room at ten o'clock in the evening with food and made Jim eat it right then because he'd checked Jim's replicator and mess hall access records, goddamnit, and if Jim thought "one fuckin' apple was gonna keep the doctor away, he had another think comin'," and then he'd glare until Jim finished his MSG-free chicken and rice soup, because Jim was allergic to gluten and therefore, no noodles. Which Bones made it his business to know.

So yeah. He was more than a little in love with his best friend-- but the gay sex thing? Kind of scary. Plus-- there was no sign Bones wanted to have sex with anyone, much less with guys, and then there was his whole opinion of Jim's personal sexual habits with women, since he called him "Mister Starfleet Syphillis Resurgence 2255."

Yep. Keeping his mouth shut on that love thing.

\--

"Can't a guy concentrate on his studies?"

"Did you get a new STD and you're embarrassed to tell me?" Bones asked, tugging Jim out of his desk chair and shoving him down on his bed as he whipped out his tricorder and started to scan Jim all over.

He blinked as the machine beeped that Jim was a prime specimen of masculine health and Jim couldn't help it, he stuck out his tongue.

"Told you," he said, then went back to his desk, slung his feet back up on the surface, and settled the PADD over the woody that he couldn't quite help from all of Bones' manhandling.

Great. Just great. Not only did he have it bad for his best fucking friend, so bad he'd pretty much given up on the truly lovely ladies of Starfleet, he apparently liked getting pushed around like a princess in a bad romance novel. He rolled his eyes to himself and tried to concentrate on the notes from his Advanced Warp Principles lecture so he could outline his paper, then gave it up and took off for the shower. It was only eleven and he was already whacking off for the third time today. Remind him again why he thought it was a good idea to room with Bones second year?

"You're gonna dissolve, you keep taking so many showers!" Bones called after him, grouchy that Jim wasn't sick.

Jim flipped him the bird over his shoulder. If only Bones had any idea how serious he really was in the gesture.

\--  
  
Maybe he should stop drinking. After all, there was two of pretty much everyone, and he really couldn't stop staring at Bones-- the way the stubble bristled all over his jaw, the way his adam's apple bobbed each time he took a gulp of his whisky, the way his tongue swiped over his lips and the rim of the glass, chasing the liquid to make sure he "didn't waste any, the only sin I believe in anymore," he'd say with an evil grin on his face-- but Jim was pretty far gone and they were pretty far off of campus and they'd taken a cab and ...

"What?"

It took Jim a minute to realize Bones was talking to him. He'd been too busy thing about Bones' tongue and what it might do to Jim's cock to... "Huh?"

"You keep staring at me."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"You're five," Jim slurred in response, then smiled, because hey, that was usually what Bones said but Jim got the last word this time. He wasn't captain of the debate team for nothing. He'd practiced, in fact, all the pretty words he's say to Bones when he at last got up the nerve to tell him what he really felt, really thought-- and they were all ready to come spilling out now.

Suddenly, he decided that going home and going to bed was a real good idea-- so he rose, patting his pockets to make sure he had his comm and his credits before he walked out.

"Gonna go. See you later," he said, pasting a smile on for Bones before he walked away from the table. He practically fell flat on his ass when a hand grabbed him hard by the collar and yanked, pulling him back into the booth.

"Where is she?" Bones snarled, and Jim blinked.

"Who?"

"The chick you're ditching me for?"

Jim was completely confused. "What? I'm going back to the room. My head hurts."

Bones' face changed in an instant. "Why didn't you say so. Let's go," he said, and then he hauled Jim out of the booth and the bar and into a cab so quick his already spinning head spun even more and he might have moaned just a little. He somehow made it up to the room and collapsed onto his bed face first, breath whoofing out, but Bones had collapsed down beside him and was half-sprawled over Jim's back, warm and smelling awesome, like smoke and whisky and that funky old aftershave that smelled nasty on everyone else besides his best friend.

He could've fallen asleep right there except his head really did hurt, so he pushed up a bit and stumbled into the bathroom for water and aspirin, then returned to flop back onto the bed, though further away from Bones this time. It was his bed-- he didn't get why Bones couldn't collapse on his own.

"How's your head," Bones growled, and fuck, he'd rolled over and half-collapsed over Jim as he tried to play doctor, shoving at Jim to get him to roll on his back. The only problem with his best friend was that he got touchy-feely when he was drunk, practically handsy, and so right now he was testing the pulse in Jim's neck with warm fingertips and drawing his eyelids open and Jim was just getting pissed.

"Fuck off, Bonesy, it's a headache, not a concussion," Jim said, then shoved his friend out of the way a bit sloppily, his strength and coordination not what it ought to be, especially not when there were two Boneses to shove and he was getting a woody from how close Bones was right about now.

There was a long moment of silence-- and then, a hand over his cock.

"A headache? Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Jim was sure there was a medical term for full body blushing, but he was too busy turning red with complete and utter humiliation to remember quite what it was, even though he'd read most of Bones' anatomy PADDs just to annoy him with his powers of retention.

"Stop that," he said, just as his cock twitched and grew thicker under Bones' grip.

"Your lips say no, but your cock says please, sir, may I have another." Fingers gripped his dick firmly through the fabric of jeans and stroked him a few times-- Jim gritted his jaw and tried to stay still, tried not to enjoy it-- something that was fucking impossible.

"In fact, your cock is saying more than just please, I think," Bones drawled, and Jim didn't dare look at his friend because the smug tone in his voice told him how funny he thought this whole thing was, that Jim was such a hornball that he couldn't even avoid getting it up for someone who was supposed to just be his best friend and therefore the last man on Earth Jim was supposed to want.

Bones had no fucking clue.

"Stop it," he repeated, then sat up and pulled away, scrambling back on his elbows until he was edging off of the bed and then ... somehow, he wasn't sure how, Bones had grabbed him and they were staring at each other and it was one of those stupid porno moments where they looked at each other and then started going at it like rabbits.

They didn't start going at it like rabbits-- but only because Bones went after him like a damned wolverine.

There were teeth-- lots of teeth-- and there was tongue, lots of it, but who knew tongues could be both bruisy and stabby, and Bones' hands were everywhere. Jim wanted it, Jesus Fucking Christ but he wanted Bones, but he'd had just enough to drink and his head was spinny enough from the aspirin and the booze and now the heady idea that Bones wanted him too-- and just trying to kiss Bones back and hang on and get his own mouth on Bones' skin was kind of too much to keep up with without also expressing the knot in his stomach and the way the gooseflesh and shivers weren't all from the truly awesome thing Bones was doing to Jim's cock with his mouth right about now because --

He knew he called out-- some weird, strangled sound-- at that press of fingers inside him, and it hurt even worse than he'd imagined, fuck but it hurt, but everything was upside down, felt like, and Bones' mouth on his cock felt so good in contrast and he just didn't know what was happening, because his other hand was twisting and pinching Jim's nipples and chest so hard that his eyes were even more blurry but fuck, Bones' mouth was so good, so fucking good, and he was humming his approval as his tongue stroked the underside of Jim's cock and another finger jabbed hard up inside him words, yeah, he was good with words, he should try for "slower" or "no" or "not yet" or even a cautionary "I've never" but the only thing that seemed to be making its way out of his mouth were these strange garbled gasps and wheezes as those fingers poked and stretched and burned inside him so painfully.

His head swam, and there was a jab over some spot inside him as Bones sucked his dick with one hard deep stroke and Jim couldn't help it, he was coming even though it hurt more than any orgasm ever before-- the next thing he knew he was facedown in the mattress and Bones was pounding his cock into Jim's ass and ... it burned and stretched and surely a person wasn't supposed to be this full, was he?

That wasn't him squeaking, was it, those ridiculous whimpers?

"You take it so pretty, baby," Bones growled in his ear, his fingers surrounding Jim's cock again, fondling him, and Jim heard a whimper again even as his still-sensitive cock ached from the motion of Bones' fingers on him.

Bones was muttering all kinds of gorgeous filth in Jim's ear and he wished a million things including that he was more sober to be paying better attention but mostly he just wished that Bones would come so this would be over already because damnit, this hurt, and another deep thrust from Bones as he hauled Jim further back onto his knees pushed a deep groan from Jim, his body convulsing in pain, and whatever that convulsion did to Jim, it did something for Bones because something hot stung and erupted inside as they both collapsed forward, Jim moaning into the pillow as the weight of Bones' body drove his softening cock deeper inside.

He blacked out from the pain.

\--

He came to because of the grumbling-- and he knew Bones must have doped him with the good stuff because he couldn't help giggling at the fact that Bones was grumbling at him.

Jim was splayed out on his stomach on Bones' bed and Bones was doing something that Jim couldn't feel because of the drugs and that was probably good because Bones was muttering "Like a fucking stuck pig," and Jim chanced a glance at his bed and _oh_ , there had been a lot of blood and a glance over his shoulder showed him there was a fair amount on the bit of Bones' thighs he could see.

"Sorry," he giggled, because now Bones was going to have to do laundry and Bones hated laundry, but the doctor just glared at him before rolling his eyes.

"Do NOT apologize to me, you goddamned virgin jackass. I mean, Jesus Christ, Jim, only you."

"M'exceptional, s'true," he slurred, his eyes drooping shut.

"Do you hurt anywhere?" came Bones' voice from behind him, thick and furious-sounding, and Jim shook his head no. Or thought maybe he did.

"Floaty. S'nice."

Bones grunted and continued doing whatever it was that he was doing, then piled tons of covers on top of Jim before going off to do ... something. Change the sheets? Take a shower? Something. Jim floated while the sounds of whatever Bones was doing while he bitched himself out barely registered-- occasional words like "irresponsible" and "malpractice" and "alcoholic" and "consent" dribbled into Jim's consciousness until a vague picture formed and he managed to push himself over onto his back with a small groan and a flop of his limbs into some awkward position. This wouldn't do, not the self-loathing Bones was working himself into. A bad start was not a non-starter, not in Jim's book, and if he'd been a little more sober he'd have _definitely_ been a more able-bodied participant.

"Bones?" he said, and damn but his voice sounded feeble.

His best friend was there in a shot, looking half-panicked. "What? What do you need, Jim?"

"Come to bed," he mumbled, and shoved at the covers. "Beat yourself up in the morning, when I'm not so drugged up, mmkay?"

Bones just stared at him for a minute and Jim tried his best glare.

"'M cold. An' you're warm. An', yeah. Get in here."

Bones wasted no time, and Jim found himself gathered into the doctor's arms fully, bare skin in full contact. Bones' heart eventually stopped hammering so very loudly, coming to something approaching the slow thud of Jim's, the one that was nice and slow and heavy and even because Bones always gave him the good stuff.

"I'm so sorry, Jim," Bones finally whispered, and he must have thought Jim was asleep, because something wet dribbled onto Jim's nose from where his head was tucked under Bones' chin.

"S'okay. But I'm gonna top f'r a bit when we do that again." Jim mumbled, then turned and pressed a kiss that was kind of sloppy into the bit of Bones' chest right under his mouth.

"We'll do or not do whatever you want."

"I wanna sleep, so shut up and kiss me."

Bones did-- and it was long, and tender, and sweet, and nothing like anything in the pornos. Jim fell asleep with a smile on his face.   


**Author's Note:**

> No sequels or follow-up stories, sorry-- this is from back circa 2009-ish, and is a standalone.


End file.
